Hot Pink Neon

After siding with Mitsuhama in the Seth Dietrich fiasco, the runners went to ground for a while. Their benefactor, Mitsuhama big-wig Yamamoto-San, set them up with a wiz condo in Tacoma. There, they waited, bought some toys, and did some training…

…hoped to give Annie Goldsmith and the Ork Underground time to forget about them.

Work solved all the problems; made the enemies they’d made seem far away. Mitsuhama needed to sabotage the latest comm from Aztechnology, the heavily-hyped AzTro, and an opportunity presented itself. In a job for Yamamoto-San, Shortround and Trixi had the distinct honor of murdering MatrixBook CEO Chadwick Gable with a comm-bomb, even if they didn’t know they were doing it at the time.

What followed were a pair of jobs from Trixi’s runningmates, the Halloweeners. With Phil and Frank, they shot their way out of a drug deal gone sour, and now, they’re working with Vlad, the ‘Weeners’ ace decker. They stole some outsider elvish art for a Senator, and Vlad fit them with microcameras.

The purpose? Well, nuyen, of course, but it’s also going to provide surveillance for part two of the job. From the roof, they’ll enter the Senator’s two-story condo at the top of a skyscraper, using the cameras in the paintings to keep watch over the interior, and sneak inside to find the Senator’s commlink. After that, they link it up with Vlad, and he does… well, something. They don’t know what.

After that, they finish the framing. Plant the novacoke inside the Senator’s vault, which they’ll need to both locate and find a way to open on site. It won’t be easy, but if they manage to sneak their way through the job, the inner vault and its treasures await.

Not exactly the wake-up call that Trixi and Shortround were looking for. A pair of Knight-Errant terminators armed and armored to the teeth pointing some serious ordinance at the runners. After several grenades and a bunch of KE pawns getting geeked, the situation reached its peak in the hallway.

The Tacoma heist? For once, the runners were blamed for a crime that they legitimately had nothing to do with. At the station, they were individually interviewed by a dwarf and ork pair of KE lieutenants. Tried every trick in the book. The old good cop/bad cop routine. Telling them their partners flipped on them. No dice. Runners didn’t take the bait.

Got to spend some quality time with a strung-out junkie in a holding cell. That was fun. Thankfully, they didn’t need to make use of the filthy chemical toilet in the corner before legal council arrived. It took the form of a norm girl with neon pink hair and a splash of freckles on her nose. Looked all of fourteen, but she knew her drek. Called herself “Imaginary” Annie Goldsmith—bailed out the runners and took them to Soybuck’s to discuss some other business.

Hopped up on caffeine and sugar, and seriously in debt, they agreed to Annie’s job. Meet Mr. Johnson at a bar called the Banshee. More info on site.

Fetch and grab, this time for a Sony Emperor. Target was a drekhead ork named Oxycode—dealer, small time pimp, all-around scumbag. He had the comm at a no-tell motel called the Novelty Hills Sleep & Eat. On site, Shortround’s drone zipped around on recon; spotted the side entrance to the stairwell. No security to speak of. Walked right in and up to 312, where they found Oxycode chilled out on the floor.

Maybe a little too chill. As in not breathing. Shortround kicked in the door and the runners stepped into the cramped motel room. Sony Emperor was on the floor beside the body, along with another, much nicer comm. Hermes Ikon in black trimmed with lime green. Pretty wiz. Delivered the Sony to Mr. Johnson, who told them they could have the Hermes. Keep it. Sell it. Whatever.

They sat on what might have at one time been a couch in what would have been considered the dregs even for the Redmond barrens. It suited their needs, though. It was close. It was secure.

…secure enough.

Burned by their fellow runners and left without a payday, Shortround and Trixi did what any good shadowrunner does. They got another job.

Mr. Johnson was an elf—middle age, professional-looking haircut. Met them in a bar. Typical stuff all the way. The kind of drek they could do in their sleep. Johnson’s daughter was kidnapped, and he wanted her back. Bonus bucks if you get her back without the mob knowing what’s what.

Standard fetch. No problem. Their lead was a big, dumb Italian named Vic Fratelli. Found him, just like Mr. Johnson said, at a fast food place called McHugh’s, stuffing his face with the specialty: The Beast. While Vic clogged his arteries, Shortround’s wasp drone zipped through the restaurant on some wiz reconnaissance. Place was all mobbed up—everyone from the manager to the fry cook.

Caught a break. Kid was on site. With a little help from some totally legal explosives, Moxie was out and so were the runners. Met back up with Johnson at Hampton Holistic Healthcare, a run-down clinic in Redmond with a serious shaman vibe. Got paid. Shows what you can do when you don’t have a couple of backstabbers trying to geek you for your cut.

Back where they started. On Trixi’s patched-up couch. Tomorrow’s a new day.

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.